


A Heart of Coal

by DatHeetJoella



Category: Free!
Genre: 1910s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Coal Miner!Makoto, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, First Love, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, cook!haru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25758136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DatHeetJoella/pseuds/DatHeetJoella
Summary: On a morning like any other, a young man Haruka had never seen before entered the café of his family. The first thing Haruka noticed was his handsome appearance, but his unusual order really caught his attention. Since then, the man returned every morning and evening and always ordered the same meals. Curiosity piqued, Haruka was determined to find out the reason behind his customer's strange eating habits.But nothing could've prepared him for the bitter truth.
Relationships: Nanase Haruka/Tachibana Makoto
Comments: 30
Kudos: 103





	1. Toast & Stew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After watching a couple too many episodes of the tv drama "When Calls the Heart", this idea started to brew in my head. I haven't caught up to the show yet, but that didn't stop this MakoHaru AU from developing. Needing to share it somewhere, I began to write out a thread to post on Twitter like I do more often. But as I was writing it, it ended up getting longer and longer until just the general summary got to 2.7k, which would be about 52 tweets. That was obviously too much, so I decided to refine it and post it here instead.
> 
> In the end, another 10k was added to that word count and since there's two main parts of this story, I decided to split it up. The fic is finished, so it shouldn't be too long until the second half is up, too.
> 
> I hope you enjoy! ^^
> 
> CW: mentions of accidents

The scent of warm blueberry scones wafted through the room and Haruka nearly burned his knuckles pulling them from the oven when he processed what his mother told him. "What?"

"You heard me," his mother said, "We're almost out of cinnamon and I need some canned peaches and pineapple for dessert, so I'm going to the mercantile as soon as it opens. You'll have to tend to the customers while I'm gone."

"But Mom-"

"I'm sorry. I know you prefer to stay in the kitchen but until your father gets back from his trip to Hidaka, my hands are tied."

Haruka huffed as he put the baking tray onto a cloth and threw the towel on the counter. It wasn't like he hadn't been left alone in the café before, he simply wasn't one for feigned smiles and excessively-polite speech. He appreciated the patronage of every customer, but he'd rather not squabble with men who ordered sunny-side-up eggs and bacon only to claim they had specifically asked for omelettes when their plates were served. His mother was much more equipped to deal with those types of situations. It was better for him to stay behind the stove where it was safe to roll his eyes.

"I won't be gone for more than half an hour." His mother put her hand on his shoulder and bid him a comforting look. "I don't expect many folks to come in this early, but if they do and something happens, grit your teeth and go along with whatever they request. It's not worth to lose a loyal customer over one muffin."

"I know," Haruka grumbled as he busied himself with plating the hot scones.

"To make it up to you, you can get tomorrow afternoon off to go to the lake. Just be back before dinner rush and make sure to bring some fish to serve."

"How do I have the afternoon off if you expect me to catch fish for dinner? It's not even for me."

His mother shrugged. "If you catch enough and not all of them get ordered, you can eat the leftovers by yourself. You can swim a little while you're there too as long as you promise to bring your rod, and don't lose track of time like you did two weeks ago." His mother grabbed her basket and pressed a kiss to his temple. "Don't forget to flip the sign at eight. Love you."

"I won't," Haruka said as the door clicked shut. If this was going to happen more often, perhaps he should put a 'Help Wanted' sign on the windowsill. Then he could focus on what he excelled in and let someone else handle the troublesome work.

A couple of minutes before they - or rather, he - would open, Haruka decided to get the coffee brewing. Hopefully, no one would be here to drink it.

Alas, his prayers went unanswered. The bell above the door chimed at nearly clock stroke eight, and Haruka's eyeballs turned so far in their sockets he could practically see his brain cells dying. This was going to be a long day.

There was no use postponing the inevitable, so Haruka whipped out his notepad and pencil and walked into the dining area. The sooner he served this guest, the sooner they were out the door and he'd be alone again.

"Good morning," he said, mustering up every grain of strength in his bones to not sound too monotonous. "What can I get y-"

When Haruka looked up from his notepad, his breath hitched and heart stopped.

Seated at the table in front of him was a man he hadn't seen before. His face was downturned as he examined the menu, but he was undeniably handsome. Very handsome. Messy brown hair swept across his forehead, skin tanned from labour in the scalding sun, with a straight nose and full lips. If it weren't for the soot-stained work uniform, then his broad build would've been enough to sell him out as a miner; since the opening of the mine about seven months ago, new workers and their families moved to Iwatobi regularly, so it was no surprise Haruka hadn't met him earlier.

Haruka's throat ran dry as he ran his gaze over the guy's long eyelashes and he had to resist the temptation to dash back into the kitchen and chug the whole pot of coffee. But he didn't move a muscle and his expression remained neutral as he asked, "What can I get you, sir?"

Visibly startled, the guy looked up at him. His irises were green, so rich and vibrant, like he dug up the finest pair of emeralds during his mining work and shoved them into his head for safekeeping. While they were nothing short of mesmerising, that wasn't the only thing Haruka noticed now they were face-to-face: his cheeks were pretty round and free of lines and marks, giving him a youthful appearance. Haruka guessed the guy was around his age, perhaps a bit younger. It made his stomach churn.

Mining for coal was important, but that didn't make it any less dangerous. The thought of going to work every morning knowing something might happen that prevented you from returning home in the evening sent shivers down Haruka's back. It made him appreciate his parents' efforts and smart investments even more; if not for this café and their other assets, he probably would've been hacking at rocks alongside this guy.

"Um, excuse me?" the guy called sheepishly, snapping Haruka out of his daydreams. For his frame, his voice was surprisingly soft and mellow, like sweet maple syrup. "Are you ready to take my order?"

"Of course. What will it be?"

"Just some toast and a cup of coffee, please."

Haruka frowned. "Is that all?"

A bunch of miners came in for a hearty breakfast in the morning to stock up energy for a hard day of work. One ordered more than the other, but not many left without eating at least a croissant or a sausage or two. Surely toast and coffee wouldn't be enough to satiate a guy this large.

"Yes." When the puzzlement didn't fade from Haruka's features, the guy elaborated, "I'm not that hungry. Always had a small appetite."

That was a bit hard to believe and Haruka was about to offer him a scone instead, but he swallowed his words before they could jump off his tongue. Scones were on the menu and if the guy wanted one, he would've said so. Haruka didn't like arguments with anyone, let alone customers, so he wasn't about to instigate one. "Toast and coffee, coming right up."

"Thank you."

Haruka put the blank notepad on the counter and went back to the kitchen to prepare the guy's meal - if it even qualified as such. His cheeks were blazing and his whole body felt warm, but it was probably just because of the heat that radiated off the new electrical toaster his dad bought on one of his many trips.

While the bread was being roasted, Haruka sneaked a glance at the guy through the hatch. His chin rested on his fist as he stared out the window, seeming lost in thought. The light of the morning sun poured in through the frilly curtains, dyeing him in a golden glow. Ethereal, beautiful… wistful.

A burning smell entered Haruka's nose and yanked him from his musing. He pulled the toast out from between the hot metal and sighed in relief: it was a bit on the dark side, but still edible. He'd layer on some extra thick butter to salvage the taste.

Once everything was on the tray, he breathed in deeply before he brought the guy's meal over. "Here you go, sir."

"Ah, thank you." The guy removed his elbows from the table to make space for his plate and cup. "It looks delicious."

It didn't, but Haruka nodded anyway. "Milk and sugar?"

"Yes, please."

Haruka pointed to the containers to let the guy help himself; his mother would berate him for being rude, but it was quicker than asking how much he wanted. In his opinion, a back-and-forth about sugar scoops while the food got cold was far ruder.

The guy didn't mind and added the desired amount to his cup, which was _a lot_ : the liquid nearly spilled over the rim. If he was going to add this much, he might as well have gotten plain milk. It was kind of cute. Not that it was any of Haruka's business.

"Enjoy your meal," Haruka said as he picked up the tray, and he turned around to walk away when a hand caught his arm. It felt rough against his wrist, but also very warm. Comforting.

"Excuse me?" the guy said, and then he smiled. His gemlike irises were already enthralling, but there was nothing that could've prepared Haruka for his breathtaking smile. Upon seeing it, the jitters in his skin dwindled and ease flowed through his veins. He couldn't help but think he was lucky to be on the receiving end of it, yearned to always be greeted with such tenderness.

"Yes?"

"I don't believe we've met before, have we? I'm Makoto Tachibana."

Makoto. Somehow, that name suited him. It sounded gentle, a caress to his eardrums.

"Haruka Nanase," Haruka said, "Just Haru is fine, though."

"It's very nice to meet you, Haru," Makoto said with an adorable tilt of his head, eyes falling shut in delight.

On Makoto's tongue, Haruka's name was pure honey. His blood shot up to his face and he mumbled another, "Enjoy your meal," before he sought out the safe haven of the kitchen. He leaned against the counter and willed his foolish heart to quit beating so harshly, for there was no reason to. If only his cheeks had cooled down and his palms were no longer sweaty when Makoto was ready to pay.

That night, Makoto came to the café again.

Haruka's mother had long since returned by then, so Haruka was relieved of his serving-duties, but he instantly recognised Makoto's sweet voice among the choir of gruff grumbles and bellowing laughter. For the first time in his entire life, there was a tiny part of him that wanted to go out among the crowd to be the one to talk to Makoto. It was incredibly stupid, so he repressed the longing and went to work on plating his meal: a glass of water and a bowl of the day stew. He couldn't resist stealing another glance at him through the hatch, though.

When his mother noticed, he got scolded for dawdling, but it wasn't severe enough to deter him from doing it once more.

Since then, Makoto visited the café twice a day, seven days per week. Every morning and every evening, it was like a personified ray of sunshine entered the café, lighting up the room with his very presence. His mother attended to him mostly, but if things were getting too busy, Haruka would take it upon himself to bring him his standard meal: for breakfast, coffee and toast and for dinner, the day stew and water. He told himself it was to help his mother out and if he had to serve anyone, then he'd rather be met with Makoto's soft gaze and kind smile than the snides of a bitter old man.

Truth of the matter was that he was curious. Not just about Makoto and who he was, but also about his strange eating habits.

Many people had a favourite dish in their café and ate it regularly, that wasn't odd. If his parents would allow it and they had enough, Haruka would prefer to eat mackerel for every meal, too. But most people wanted some variety, both in flavour and nutrition. And it wasn't like toast and stew were anything special. At least not special enough to eat this often.

So Haruka thought he might have some food allergies or other health problems and ate the same meals to be safe. But while toast didn't change from one morning to the next, the stew was different on most days and Makoto had no way of knowing what was going to be in it, so that option was scrapped too.

These speculations about Makoto occupied Haruka's mind from dawn to dusk, to the point they split his skull with aches and started to get on his nerves. He had to get rid of them, to clear his brain so blissful silence would reign in his head once again. And there was only one way to accomplish that.

* * *

One Saturday around noon, Haruka went over to the mercantile to collect some supplies. On his previous trip to Samezuka, his father brought him a set of newly imported watercolours. He recently ran out, so he purchased some from the store to be shipped to Iwatobi and his package should've arrived by then.

He was still pondering whether or not to get some new brushes as well when the door was hurled open in front of his nose and Makoto stepped outside. His presence wasn't surprising, but it startled Haruka nonetheless.

Sometimes, when he was out on an errand or mindlessly strolling through town, he would run into Makoto and they would chat for a bit. Although Haruka despised small talk otherwise, it was different with Makoto. Pleasant, not forced. He always greeted him with his usual tender smile and wished him a nice day as they parted. And when they did, not only his head was filled with wonders, but his stomach with flutters, too.

"Oh, good morning, Haru," Makoto said with that habitual tilt of his head that made Haruka's heart swell. "Or should I say good afternoon?"

"Either works." Haruka shrugged. "Here to pick something up?" he asked, eyeing Makoto's empty hands.

"Just wanted to see if there was any post for me, but that wasn't the case."

"Are you expecting something?"

"No, not in particular." Makoto rubbed at the back of his neck and shifted his gaze away. His words sounded genuine, but something about his behaviour suggested it wasn't completely true. "I have today off and I rarely have the opportunity to drop in and ask, so I figured I might as well stop by for a moment to check."

Now he mentioned it, instead of soot-smears, he was clad in a clean cream button-up with some brown trousers and suspenders. Haruka didn't think he'd ever seen him in casual clothes before, otherwise he would've noticed sooner how skinny Makoto actually was. His work uniform showed off how broad his shoulders were, but concealed the rest of his body: thinned forearms poked out of rolled-up sleeves and the shirt pooled around his narrow waist.

Haruka already had his doubts about Makoto's supposed small appetite and this confirmed his suspicions were right. But if he called him out on it in broad daylight, Makoto would probably avoid the subject, laugh and brush it off as his imagination, because he was fine. He wouldn't go as far as to claim he knew Makoto well, but during their little conversations here and there, Haruka had grown quite accustomed to his demeanour and mannerisms.

If asking him directly wouldn't work, then he had to think of something else. For now, he had to buy himself more time.

"Are you free tonight?"

"Yeah?" Makoto said with his sweet smile.

"Would you like to come over for dinner?"

"I always come over for dinner, don't I?"

Makoto chuckled and warmth rose to Haruka's face. "No, I meant…" he mumbled as he shuffled his feet. "Would you like to have dinner with me?"

"Oh. _Oh_ , uh, yeah," Makoto said and a pink blush dusted his cheekbones too. "I would like that."

"Then, see you at the café at eight?"

Makoto's smile softened. "I promise I'll be there."

The corners of Haruka's lips threatened to curl up and mirror Makoto's expression and he swiftly spun around so Makoto wouldn't see. He began to walk off but Makoto called after him.

"Haru!" Haruka turned back and Makoto pointed over his shoulder at the mercantile's door. "Weren't you going in?"

If his cheeks were scorching before, then they were ready to explode now. Haruka bolted past Makoto and tugged the door shut behind him. Makoto's giggles echoed beyond the glass, and their joy overwrote his embarrassment.

When he got back to the café, he asked his mother if he could have a guest over for dinner after hours. A knowing glint lit up her cobalt eyes, but all she said was, "Sure, if you clean up after yourselves."

With his mother's permission, he started with the preparations for a large meal: tomato soup with fresh bread as a first course, salted mackerel with a side of salad and baked potatoes for the main dish, and for dessert a small chocolate cake. That was the first step of his plan.

A small grin prevailed on his lips as he chopped up the vegetables and shoved a loaf into the oven. He told himself it was because he was curious and his burning questions might finally be answered tonight. But deep down, he knew he was excited.

Night fell at last and Haruka's gaze darted back and forth between the soup simmering on the stove and the clock ticking away above it far too slowly. Eight on the dot and three soft knocks thrummed through the wood. Haruka smiled. Makoto was punctual as always.

Haruka swung the door open and his mouth fell agape at the sight of the handful of daisies and buttercups Makoto clutched against his chest.

"Good evening, Haru," Makoto said. He followed Haruka's fixated stare to his hand and seemed astonished by what he found between his own fingers. "Oh, um, on the way here, I realised I didn't bring anything and that would be awfully rude of me, so I plucked some wildflowers. I hope you like them."

"Idiot, you didn't have to bring anything," Haruka said, but he accepted the little bouquet anyway. "Thanks."

The signature expression lit up Makoto's face and Haruka bit his bottom lip.

"Sit down. I'll put these in a vase and then we can eat. I hope you're hungry."

"Starving," Makoto chuckled as he patted his stomach. While it was supposed to be hyperbole, it wasn't too hard to believe.

Between spoonfuls of tomato soup, they chatted amiably about anything and everything. Whenever he was with Makoto, it was so easy to lose track of the minutes blending to hours, but Haruka hadn't forgotten there was a purpose to this dinner.

The soup and bread were more than Makoto usually ate for breakfast, yet he didn't seem to have much trouble with it now. Haruka thought he might've just cleared his plate to be polite, but the main course didn't make him falter either; he took large bites and conversation flowed forward effortlessly. If he could eat this much with no issues, how could toast and stew satisfy him otherwise?

Then, it hit him. Toast was the cheapest item on their breakfast menu. For dinner, stew was its counterpart.

This revelation, though very important, only confused Haruka more; there must've been a reason he was being frugal. He presumably earned the same the other miners did, but no one put themselves under such dietary restrictions as Makoto. On payday, many splurged on filet mignon with extra potatoes and mushrooms, which cost far more by itself than an entire week's worth of toast and coffee.

Throughout their little chats, Haruka learned Makoto lived in one of the houses provided to the miners by the company, so it wasn't like his living expenses were higher than anyone else's either. In fact, a lot of his colleagues had wives and children to take care of too, while Makoto was a bachelor.

No matter how many possible explanations Haruka made up, none seemed to fit Makoto quite right. There had to be an answer to this enigma, and Haruka was determined to find out. All that was left to do now was wait for an opening.

Thankfully, Makoto didn't disappoint. After he stuffed the last bite of fish into his mouth, he sighed in delight. "This was delicious, Haru," he said, his napkin masking his smile as he dabbed at his mouth. "Thank you for inviting me."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Haruka said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I made a chocolate cake earlier. Would you like a slice?"

Wonder illuminated Makoto's pupils. "Yes, please. I love chocolate cake!"

Baited like an unsuspecting trout. "I'll cut it in a minute, but first… can I ask you something?"

"Sure, anything," Makoto said, still unaware of how deep Haruka's curiosity lied.

"Why do you always order just toast and stew? You said it's because you have a small appetite, but that's obviously not true."

All colour drained from Makoto's face. His napkin slipped through his fingers as his gaze dropped to the tablecloth. When Haruka first met him, he'd thought there was an aura of wistfulness surrounding Makoto, but never before had it been this apparent.

"You don't have to answer if you're not comfortable," Haruka said, regret stinging at his gut. He wanted to know what plagued Makoto's life, what intentions fueled his actions, but not at the cost of his smile. "I'm sorry for prying."

"No, it's alright," Makoto said as he whipped up his head. The corners of his lips were forced upwards, but his eyes remained filled with melancholy. "I… have two amazing siblings. Twins: a girl, Ran, and a boy, Ren. They mean everything to me."

Haruka's eyebrows were raised in surprise. Makoto hadn't mentioned having siblings prior to now and judging by the pained look on his face, there was a reason for that. So far, Haruka didn't see the correlation between his question and Makoto's answer, but he told himself to be patient for Makoto's tale to unravel.

"My family lives in a small town, Sano, and we're not exactly wealthy. Never have been, but we could get by just fine until…" Tears welled up and he bit his lip to keep them at bay. "Until there was an accident in the mine where our father worked."

Doom lapped at Haruka's neck like a candle about to topple over and set the whole café aflame. His blood ran cold and crystalised inside his veins, and he reached out and placed his hand over Makoto's trembling one. He didn't know what to say other than, "Makoto."

The call of his name snapped Makoto out of his pensiveness and he quickly stammered, "My father's still alive! He was one of the handful of survivors that day."

Haruka let out a breath of relief, but Makoto didn't look relieved.

"Thankfully he survived, but he didn't get out unscathed. The structure inside the mine collapsed suddenly and when my father and his colleagues tried to flee, a falling beam landed on his back. It snapped his spine in half and his colleagues had to drag him out. He's wheelchair-bound now, paralysed from the waist down." Makoto paused for a moment to take a big gulp of water. "The mine was closed after the incident. My father tried to find another job, but no one would hire him. Everyone prefers a healthy man over a disabled one."

How cruel. He couldn't do heavy manual labour anymore, but Makoto's father was no less fit for a desk job than anyone else.

"We received some money from his insurance, but it all went to my father's medical bills. My mother worked as a seamstress, but my father needs round the clock care so she had to quit her job. She does some work at home when she can, but it's not nearly enough to provide for us all," he said, "My father became so depressed, not only because he needs help getting out of bed and going to the outhouse, but also because he feels like he failed as a husband and father. He said that it would've been better if he died, then he wouldn't be such a burden to us and we would still have his life insurance money."

"That's horrible," Haruka said as he rubbed his thumb over Makoto's hand.

"How could he ever say that? How could he ever think he's a burden?" A single tear spilled over and streamed down his cheek, and he sniffed deeply as he wiped it away. "Sorry."

"It's alright." There was nothing Haruka wanted more than to leap up from his chair and envelop Makoto in his arms, so he could cry his heart out on his shoulder. But no matter how fierce the desire was, Haruka was frozen to his cushion. The sole part of his body he could move was his hand, and he squeezed Makoto's fingers tightly.

When Makoto regained his composure, he took another sip of his drink before he continued, "I'm the breadwinner of our family now, but after the mine closed, all the good jobs that were up for grabs were gone in a second while I was still recovering from the shock of my father's accident. All that was left were smaller jobs, nowhere near enough to provide for my family. There was nothing left for me to do there, so I had no choice but to move here."

It took immense bravery to come to Iwatobi by himself and work in the mine after everything that happened, but as Makoto said, he had no choice. Sometimes, cowardice wasn't an option. While Haruka was glad Makoto moved here so they could meet, he dearly wished it would've been under different circumstances. "You must miss your family a lot."

"I do," Makoto confirmed, "At first, they wanted to come with me, but I declined. The twins go to school there, my parents have their friends and their community, I couldn't possibly expect them to give all of that up. It was already so hard for them to adjust to the new situation, so I can't imagine how difficult it would be for them if their home changed, too."

"But it was hard for you too, wasn't it?"

"It was, but I don't mind. Anything to make them happy," Makoto said, and for the first time since this topic was breached, the genuine glint returned to his emerald irises. "That's why I'm trying to cut corners wherever I can, so I can support my family, and also so save up a bit for the twins' future."

"So your brother won't have to work in the mine?" Haruka asked.

Makoto nodded. "He and my sister are both so smart. I know they can do anything they set their minds to. I want them to be able to make their dreams come true. School isn't cheap, but they're still young so I have a couple of years left."

If Haruka didn't admire Makoto and his hard work already, he would've started to now. Sacrificing himself and endangering his life like that for his siblings, how selfless could he be?

Slowly, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place and the fog in Haruka's mind began to clear, but there was one piece still missing. "But then why do you come to the café every day?" he asked. While he ordered the cheapest items on the menu, surely cooking for himself would be even more cost-efficient.

A blush flared up Makoto's cheeks, grief replaced by embarrassment, and he awkwardly rubbed at his neck. "Well, you see… I'm a terrible cook. And I mean terrible. I can't make toast without burning it, my eggs are crisp-black and still have pieces of shell in them, I cut my fingers more often than the tomatoes, you get the idea. Eating plain bread for every meal got tired after a while, so I decided to check out the café. It's cheaper than ruining meals."

A soft chuckle escaped Makoto's lips and the sound of it made a weight drop off Haruka's shoulders. He smiled, just a little. "We are grateful for your patronage."

"I'm happy to come here, too. Your mother is so kind, she reminds me of my own mom," Makoto admitted as he averted his eyes, bashful. "And your food is so good, it makes me a bit less homesick. And well, I like seeing you, too… It's the highlight of my day."

"...Mine too," Haruka mumbled and heat emerged in his face again. Before Makoto could say anything else, he shot up in his chair. "Cake."

He went over to the counter, lifted the lid off the cake and searched for a knife. While he was slicing it, another realisation dawned upon him.

"If you can't cook, then what do you eat for lunch?"

"Oh, not much. Usually an apple or a banana, something I can easily take with me that doesn't require any cooking, baking or cutting."

Haruka's jaw nearly plummeted to the hardwood floor. "That's it? You eat such meager breakfasts and then you eat an apple for lunch?"

"It's fine, really." Makoto frantically waved his hands in front of his chest. "I'm not that hungry anyway."

Haruka knew he couldn't win this argument with words, so he made up his mind. If Makoto couldn't feed himself properly, then he was going to feed Makoto himself.

* * *

True to his word, when Makoto ordered his toast the next day, Haruka added a fried egg and two strips of bacon to his plate. He was about to bring it over to Makoto, but his mother stopped him. It wasn't very busy at the café so there was no reason for him to help out.

"Who's this for?" she asked when she saw the contents. "I don't recall anyone ordering this?"

"It's for Makoto."

"Makoto didn't order this. He always orders toast only."

Haruka sighed. He had wanted to keep Makoto's secret to himself, but he couldn't hide anything from his mother. Especially not things that went down inside her café. "Just give it to him. If he protests, insist and walk away. I'll explain it later."

The crease between his mother's eyebrows prevailed as she looked at him sceptically, but after a few seconds, she turned around and went back into the dining area.

By the time Makoto was ready to pay, the café had gotten more crowded and his mother was swamped with work, so Haruka went over to the register with a packed bag.

"Here are your leftovers."

"Leftovers? I didn't have any leftovers," Makoto said with a frown. He peered inside the bag, saw the sandwich and chocolate-chip muffin that were inside, and his ears grew red. "I didn't order this."

"It's on the house."

"I can't accept that. How much for this and the egg and bacon?" Makoto opened his wallet to pile more coins onto the counter, but Haruka left them where they were. "Haru."

He could press all he wanted, but Haruka wouldn't budge.

"You only ordered toast, sir," he said, pretending not to know what Makoto was talking about. "This is enough."

Makoto bit his lip. It was obvious he found it difficult to accept charity, so Haruka had to be a bit more urgent.

"If you're not eating properly, you won't have as much strength and won't be as alert. You know how dangerous mines can be. You wouldn't want to compromise the health of your colleagues now would you?" Haruka hated to guilt trip Makoto into accepting the food, but he saw no other option. "Just take it."

Another moment of hesitation passed as Makoto contemplated whether or not to accept Haruka's reached-out hand. He clicked his tongue, and Haruka smirked; Makoto's shift was about to start, while Haruka was in this café for the rest of the day, with all the time in the world to argue.

"Thank you, Haru," Makoto caved after an intense stare-down, "I promise I'll make it up to you."

He waved over his shoulder and exited through the door. That night, when Haruka was blessed with Makoto's radiant smile, his debts would be paid off in full.

Once breakfast rush was over and Haruka and his mother were alone in the café, he could no longer avoid the subject. He boiled some water to make tea and sat his mother down at the kitchen table. Then, he told his mother about Makoto and his history, about his father and the accident - though he omitted some of the more personal details -, about his little siblings and how he was saving up for their futures by underfeeding himself.

"Oh, that poor child," his mother said, clutching her chest, "I didn't know something like that happened to him, and he's still so young. Too young for such responsibilities."

"Look, you can take everything I give him extra out of my paycheck," Haruka said. His mother was kind and emphatic, but she was a businesswoman first and foremost. "Then the café won't suffer for it and everything's fine, right?"

"Nonsense," his mother said, "Nothing will be taken out of your paycheck. We make enough profit, the café won't miss a sandwich or two a day."

Haruka's eyes widened in surprise. "Are you sure?" he asked, because he hadn't expected his mother to agree to it so easily.

"Of course. Makoto is a good man and we should help those in need," she said and took a decisive sip of her tea, "Given how much he resisted, I don't think he will take advantage of our generosity. And if a day ever comes when we need his help, I am confident we will receive it."

His mother might as well have been a fortune teller. About a week later, a storm ravaged over Iwatobi. Gusts of wind ripped the sign off the café's facade, leaving it torn on the porch. With his father still out of town, his mother's fear of heights, and Haruka's hands only being useful for cooking and crafting, they had no one to turn to but Makoto. The instant he heard of what happened, he flew up the ladder before even ordering his breakfast.

That was how Makoto became Café Nanase's official repairman.

* * *

Seasons changed and with it, Haruka's feelings towards Makoto.

Every morning, Makoto would sit down at his set table and order his toast, not daring to ask for more. Along with it, Haruka would whip something up for him with whatever he had lying around: a pancake with some fresh fruit on the side, a warm muffin or, if the delivery just arrived, a couple of sausages and beans. His protests would never cease even though Haruka reminded him frequently of the fact it was a mutual transaction, but he cleared his plate every day. When he finished his food, he got up and paid with a grateful smile. As Haruka watched through the window how Makoto's retreating form merged with the hoard of miners trekking through town, his heart would sink to his feet.

At first, Haruka would pack Makoto a lunch to take with him to work. But their bond gradually deepened and Haruka's desire to spend more time with him grew stronger. Instead, he arranged for his own lunch break to overlap with Makoto's and he would go over to the mine so they could have lunch together. Oxygen filled his lungs whenever he recognised Makoto among the crowd, waving Haruka over like they were lovers, reuniting at the train station after months apart. His stomach would flutter with every bite, yet the second the bell chimed to signify lunchtime was over, nausea would surface. The food would piece itself back together and crawl up to his throat, where it was stuck until dinner rush began.

Most evenings, stew remained on the menu for Makoto, but Haruka made sure to scoop up an extra large bowl. Once in a while, though, if Makoto appeared to be down or more exhausted than normal, Haruka would surprise him with a steak or some pasta. And every Saturday, Haruka would cook a special dinner for the two of them. Those nights, Makoto returned the favour by helping Haruka and his mother out with the dirty café dishes. Afterwards, they could sit on the porch for hours, speaking of dreams left unvoiced or gazing at the starry sky in serene silence, unaware of the hands of Haruka's pocket watch completing circle after circle.

On their days off, they would visit the lake together. They'd have a picnic, fish for the café, swim in the water to cool their skin from the abusing summer sun. Sometimes, Haruka would bring his sketchbook and eternalise how glistening beads dripped from Makoto's hair over his bared torso. As the drawings progressed, Makoto appeared healthier and stronger as meat settled around his bones and covered up his exposed ribs. But no matter how many attempts Haruka made to capture the greenness of his irises and the radiance of his smile, his artwork could never do Makoto justice.

Being with Makoto, for an afternoon or even a few minutes, brightened Haruka's entire day. Cooking was his job and he hadn't disliked it, but he didn't expect that watching someone he cared for eating what he created could be so fulfilling. Painting was a fun pastime, an outlet for his feelings, but he hadn't thought he could feel so inspired by another person. Even the lake water, that had always welcomed him with outstretched arms, felt much more inviting if he wasn't floating by himself.

Contrary to what he had expected, solving the mystery and satisfying his curiosity didn't eradicate the thoughts of Makoto that played around in his mind. In fact, the more he learned about him, the more he craved to know. From the way he held his teacup to the jokes that would make him laugh until tears sprang to his eyes. The curve of his wrist as he scratched his cheek in nervousness and the swirls he put beneath his name at the bottom of letters sent to his family. The security of his embrace and the warmth of his breath. Every drop, every sliver, every mannerism. Haruka was desperate to consume it all.

The tingles that were ever-present in his abdomen weren't solely from joy, though. From Makoto's first good morning to his last sleep well, Haruka's happiness was besmirched with what-ifs. What would happen if Makoto walked into the mine, on a day like any other, but didn't walk back out? What would happen if Haruka scooped up his stew and brought it over to his table and his seat beside the window was empty? What if this whirlwind that opened his heart to feelings yet unbeknown to him were to vanish without a trace?

Haruka was able to place these thoughts on the backburner for the most part and revelled in every flavour Makoto brought to his life. But they were always present, lurking to spoil his appetite.

But he could live in uncertainty because every dinner was a victory. As long as he kept hoping, wishing, praying that tragedy wouldn't strike, he could enjoy the moments he got to spend with Makoto. That was what he clung on to.

Alas, the day he'd been dreading since long before he met Makoto proved itself to be inevitable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Like I said at the start, the fic is complete so I hope I can get the second half out swiftly.
> 
> In the meantime, you can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/DatHeetJoella) and [Tumblr](https://datheetjoella.tumblr.com/) @DatHeetJoella for more MakoHaru content and occasional random AUs like this one. You can also send me a message on [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/DatHeetJoella) if you prefer that.
> 
> Thanks again for reading, I hope to see you again at the next part and for now, I wish you a lovely day!


	2. Blood & Soot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome back to the second half of this fic. Sorry for the wait in between the two parts, sometimes things don't go quite how we envision, haha. But it's here now, so I hope you'll enjoy it! ^^
> 
> CW: descriptions of an accident, blood, injuries and death.

On the brink of a crisp autumn afternoon, the colliery whistle blew.

Haruka whipped his head up from the sink, where he'd been drying the last of the breakfast dishes. One glance at the clock and his breath hitched. It was too early. Too early for lunch shift swaps.

A kid burst through the front door of the café, shouting so hard his words bounced off the walls and vibrated in Haruka's ears like he was standing right beside him.

"There's been an accident at the mine!"

The plate Haruka was holding shattered on the floor, fractured into thousands of pieces to match his heart. Time froze. Heat clawed at his throat, pain twisted his gut and tears clouded his vision.

Makoto had to be okay. He had to be. If he wasn't, then Haruka would never get to see his sunshine smile again. Then he could never lose himself in those beautiful emerald eyes again. Never got to hear his uncontainable laughter again. Never felt his calloused hands caress his, never kissed his full lips, never told him how much he loved him.

If he wasn't, Makoto's family would lose their son and brother, and Haruka would lose his entire world.

Before his brain had the chance to catch up, his legs were running. Out the door, through the street and down the path he shouldn't have taken for at least another hour. The whole town scrambled towards the site like a herd of sheep, but all Haruka could see was black; he got to the mine on muscle memory solely. His sight didn't return until he crashed into the backs of women possibly widowed, who were held back by miners who got away.

He frantically wiped at his eyes to see more clearly. Men were being rushed out of the mine, some brought over to a wagon, others taken to a makeshift emergency station or laid down on the ground. Half a dozen women were tending to the wounds of those with minor injuries, while the doctor stopped beside the field of bodies to assess who was clinging on to the last grains of consciousness, and who had passed prematurely.

Haruka stood up on his toes in a desperate attempt to glimpse at the miners' faces. He recognised many, both those who were lifting and those who were lifted, but none of them were right. None of them were _him_.

Until one was.

A scream echoed through the area, so loud and guttural Haruka didn't even realise it left his vocal cords. He pushed through the crowd like a feral animal when he saw Makoto's limp body being carried out between the fallen rock and timber. He was not taken over to the emergency station and Haruka's cracked heart lurched to his gut.

"Makoto!"

His colleagues put him down at a safe distance from the opening and Haruka plunged to his knees beside him. There was a large hole in Makoto's trousers, blood gushing from his left thigh to flush his leg and pooling on the dirt beneath him, and red tracks trailed down his soot-stained face from a wound on his forehead. His expression was vacant, empty, and Haruka called his name over and over and over, but he was unresponsive.

Sobs wracked Haruka's body as he grasped Makoto's cheeks, tears dripping onto his skin. He slumped against Makoto's chest, rubbed his face against his jacket and all the strength in his bones seeped out with a shaky exhale. What was he going to do without him?

He laid his head on Makoto's ribcage and squeezed his eyes shut. When he was about to succumb to grief, he heard something beneath his ear. It was so faint and vague, drowned out by the ruckus surrounding them, that Haruka couldn't believe he actually heard it. Then it sounded again and along with it, his head was pushed upwards slightly.

Makoto was alive. His breathing was weak and his heart barely beat, but he was alive.

"He's alive!" Haruka yelled, so relieved he almost forgot Makoto wasn't stable yet and could slip away at any given second. "Help! Doctor, anyone, help!"

His throat was raw and ached, but he kept screaming, harder and harder, until someone noticed his sinking boat in this sea of shipwrecks. Thankfully, it didn't take too long until a lady sped to his side and dropped to her knees beside Makoto. His blood instantly drenched her cerulean skirt.

"He's lost a lot of blood," the lady remarked as she felt for his pulse, as though Haruka hadn't figured that out yet. "He cannot afford to lose any more. The wound on his head seems shallow and should be fine for now, but we need to cover up his leg with something."

She scanned the ground around them and began to wave over some of her fellow emergency nurses, but there was no time to wait for someone to fetch a towel. Haruka tried to unbutton his shirt, but his hands were quivering so violently it was an impossible task. So instead, he ripped his shirt open in one go, fabric tearing and buttons flying, and threw it over Makoto's leg. The thin white cotton was soaked in the blink of an eye, but it was better than nothing.

"That'll do," the lady approved, "Tie it around as tight as you can and put pressure on it. I'll go get the doctor."

Pushing back his tears and willing his hands to stop trembling, Haruka wiggled the sleeves under Makoto's thigh and wrapped it as best as he could. There was no room for emotions, no place for carelessness; he had to work as quickly and precisely as he could. He would never forgive himself if Makoto died while he could've done something to prevent it, if he hadn't done enough.

Seconds or hours passed, Haruka wasn't sure, when the doctor finally crouched down beside him. "This is bad," he said after taking one look at Makoto's pale complexion, contrasted by the scarlet rivers that sprouted from his body. "He needs to go to the hospital in Hidaka. The men with the most severe injuries will be taken there by Mr. Tamura. Help me carry him."

Haruka nodded and hooked his arms under Makoto's legs while the doctor took his back. It was probably because of the adrenaline, but he heaved up Makoto's legs with ease, like he were a child.

They loaded him onto the large wagon of Mr. Tamura, an old farmer who lived just outside of town with his wife. Four other miners were propped up or laid out flat, but none of them looked as bad as Makoto. Moving between them were two women who dabbed at cuts and talked to keep the responsive men conscious.

"Elevate his leg and put continuous pressure on his wound," the doctor told one of them, and with that, he vanished to aid his next patient.

The nurse put a crate under Makoto's calf, then she placed her palm over the wet shirt and pressed down. While she took over the physical care, Haruka grabbed ahold of Makoto's hand. He felt cold and frail, nothing like how warm and reliable he'd been when he poured out his heart at the kitchen table.

If this wagon didn't hurry up and leave, they might've eaten their last meal together without savouring it. They might've spoken their last words without picking them carefully. They might've shared their last looks without studying every detail; then the sight branded on Haruka's retinas at the thought of him would not be the joy his face emitted as he tilted his head and his eyes crinkled, but the lifeless expression of his still form.

Haruka was roughly thrust away from Makoto and out of his detachment when another groaning man was hoisted onto the wagon. Whether they'd done a headcount and concluded everyone was out of the mine or if the wagon was at full capacity, Haruka didn't know, but with the last man on board, the back was clicked shut and the horses ran off. Within an instant, the wagon was gone and with it, every tangible piece of Makoto.

At a loss of what to do now, Haruka turned back around and was overwhelmed by the calamity that had unfolded. Iwatobi was a battlezone.

The scent of smoke and iron wafted through the air. Time passed in flashes, strikes of lightning. Children wailed, widows wept, wounded men whimpered. One by one, white sheets were thrown over bodies of miners who Haruka had made omelettes and waffles for mere hours ago. Ripped away in the shreds of a second, gone forever.

It was a great relief Makoto did not lie among them, but at that very moment, he could've been bleeding out on the road before making it to salvation. Surrounded by others, but none who he loved, none who loved him. All his life, Makoto had supported everyone, constant and secure and now he could die and Haruka wouldn't even be there with him.

Overcome by jaw-clenching nausea, Haruka fell to his knees and curled up in himself. He cradled his head in his hands, shielding his ears to muffle the screams, closing his eyelids to block out the disaster. It was too much, everything was too much, but no matter how hard he tried to shut himself off from the world, he couldn't erase the thoughts of Makoto's last breath from his mind. They were blows to his gut, punches that stole his own breath away, until he was left gulping and dry heaving as a waterfall of tears cascaded over his cheeks.

Amidst the encompassing worry and panic, a hand touched his bare shoulder. "Haruka. Haruka!"

The callings of a familiar voice penetrated the barrier and made him look up. His mother sat before him, concern written across her features.

"Haruka, are you alright? What happened? Why are you in your undershirt?"

There were a million things he had to tell her, but all that came out was a broken, "Makoto."

His mother pulled out her handkerchief, tipped up his chin and brushed it over his cheeks, removing the tear-diluted blood he smeared on himself. "Haruka, honey," his mother said, slow and gentle like he was a squirrel she didn't want to chase off. "Where is Makoto? Is he alright?"

Haruka opened his mouth to reply, but all that left him was another sob. His mother was patient and stroked his back while he tried to find the words. "He's alive. He's on a wagon to Hidaka. They're taking him to the hospital but I… I don't know if he's going to make it, Mom."

"Oh, Haruka," his mother sighed and wrapped her arms around him. She allowed him to cry in her chest for a couple of minutes, but when the waves didn't ebb away, she said, "Haruka, listen to me. You've done everything you can for him. Now, all we can do is pray for him and have faith in the people taking care of him. But we can do more here; we have to pull ourselves together and help our community. They need us."

"I can't." Haruka shook his head. Making soup to feed the injured and affected was unbearable; doing anything that didn't concern Makoto was. He couldn't simply go on with his life while Makoto was fighting for his. "I have to be there for him. If he dies and I never got to see him then…"

Unable to bite back the emotion, he didn't finish his sentence. His mother combed her fingers through his hair and said his name to get his attention.

"You know how to get to Hidaka, right?" He nodded, so she said, "Here's what you're going to do. Take a moment to calm down, then you're going home. There, you will wash your face, put on a clean shirt and pack a bag with some food, clothes and money. Then you'll take the carriage and you'll go to the hospital in Hidaka. Stay for as long as you need, book a hotel room if necessary, but if anything happens, let me know. Can you do that?"

Haruka gasped. Though there was nothing he wanted more than to be with Makoto, he hadn't even thought about going to Hidaka by himself. He wasn't about to decline his mother's offer, so he nodded again vehemently and tried to collect himself. "Thanks, Mom."

She smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Just be careful, alright?"

They got to their feet and Haruka gave his mother a big hug. When he let go and saw her red-rimmed eyes, he remembered something vital. "Mom, can you send a telegram to the Tachibana family in Sano and tell them what happened with Makoto?"

"Of course, I'll get to it right away," she promised. "Now, be on your way. I'll keep Makoto in my prayers, so make sure you stay safe too. I love you."

"Love you too," he said, then he took off. Back to the café, back home to do what his mother told him.

Although he'd been to Hidaka on numerous occasions throughout the years, his parents had been the ones to drive them there. Under any other circumstances, the prospect of going to the city by himself would be frightening, but all he felt now was gratitude; his father had been trying to convince his mother for months now to trade in their horses and carriage for an automobile. Had she agreed, he wouldn't have been able to follow behind Makoto because he had no idea how to operate such a vehicle. Today, his mother proved herself to be his guardian angel in more ways than one.

The road to Hidaka went by in a blur. The horses moved too slowly for Haruka's liking, but he resisted the urge to push them to their limits. It was better to maintain a steady pace than wear them out only to not make it to his destination. All the while, he tried to swallow the thoughts of Makoto. If he digested everything that happened, tears would distort his vision and he wouldn't be able to see where he was going. That didn't mean it wasn't difficult to keep the ghosts out, though.

Two and a half hours later, he arrived in Hidaka at last. Once he left the carriage and horses at the stables, he flew through town in search of the hospital. When he spotted the farmer's wagon outside of an enormous building, he barged through the doors without second thought. He hunched over to catch his breath, then asked the first person he encountered about Makoto, about the brown-haired miner with the large thigh-wound. The lady didn't know any specifics but redirected him to the third floor where, according to her, all the miners who came in had been admitted.

After asking nearly a million nurses and doctors, he finally found the person who was familiar with Makoto and his case. When she told him what happened, a thousand-pound weight fell off his shoulders and he let out a deep breath. Makoto was alive. He hadn't regained consciousness yet, but he was alive.

The nurse said Makoto had been very lucky because he lost a lot of blood and if the wagon arrived ten minutes later, he wouldn't have made it. After he was brought in, he was immediately rushed into surgery to close his wounds, during which he received a blood transfusion. His life was no longer endangered, but his leg was damaged pretty severely. Once he was stitched up, the doctors placed a cast around it in the hopes that would stimulate the healing process, but they couldn't make any promises he would recover from this injury. It could take months before he was able to walk properly again, but he might also be bound to using a cane or a wheelchair for the rest of his life.

While Haruka wished Makoto could make a full recovery, at that moment all he cared about was that he was still here. He could overcome anything as long as Makoto was by his side, and he hoped Makoto felt the same way. As long as they were alive and together, nothing else mattered.

Haruka rubbed at his eyes to will the tears of joy away as the nurse took him over to Makoto's room. Although he looked so misplaced lying in a hospital bed with his leg in a cast and a bandage around his head, he already looked so much better: colour had returned to his cheeks and his expression was peaceful - probably due to the morphine he was administered.

The nurse told him to let her know if he or Makoto needed anything and left to attend to her other patients. Haruka dragged a chair from the corner of the room over to the side of the bed and sat down, his bag sagging off his shoulder. He took Makoto's hand in his and caressed his skin. It wasn't as warm as normal, but it was no longer frigid; Death had retracted its touch and deemed that, thankfully, it was not Makoto's time yet.

He pressed his forehead to the back of Makoto's hand and closed his eyes. When Makoto woke up, he wouldn't be alone. He was here. That knowledge flooded his veins with tranquility.

His whole body relaxed, and before he knew it, the exhaustion of the day caught up with him and he drifted off into dreamless sleep.

* * *

A soft groan aroused Haruka from his slumber. He lifted his head and blinked to clear up his vision. He didn't know how long it had been since he stormed through the door, but his muscles ached from slouching awkwardly and when he peered through the window, the sky was painted a rich indigo.

Another groan drew Haruka's attention to the bed. Makoto's face was scrunched up in discomfort and Haruka's breath faltered as his emerald eyes were unveiled.

"Makoto," Haruka said, and Makoto's confused gaze met his. He threw his arms around Makoto's neck and burrowed himself in his chest. He gnawed on his lip in an attempt to tame the currents and sniffed deeply. "I'm so glad you're okay!"

"Haruka?" His melodic voice sounded croaky, most likely because of the narcotics. He struggled to sit upright, so Haruka helped him and fluffed up the pillow behind his back. "What… what happened? What is this?"

"You don't remember?" Haruka asked, and when Makoto's puzzled look didn't shift, he withdrew himself to give him some space. "There was an accident in the mine."

A soft gasp escaped Makoto's lips. "An accident?"

"Yes. I'm not sure, but I think part of the mine caved in. I don't know if it was because of an explosion or because of a structural collapse, they'll have to investigate the site to confirm what exactly happened."

Makoto slapped a trembling hand over his mouth. "Oh no… How are the others? Is everyone okay?"

His voice sounded so hopeful and Haruka studied his nail beds, contemplating the most delicate way to break the news. "Not everyone made it out unharmed. A lot of men were injured, and some… I'm not sure how many died, but as far as I could tell, at least five or six. And that was before I left. I don't know if anyone was still in the mine at that point."

"How awful," Makoto said with a shake of his head. A moan followed and his fingers shot up to the wound beneath the bandage, the epicenter of his pain. For a second he looked baffled at the feeling of fabric instead of skin, but he decided it was unimportant and continued speaking. "I wish I could've done something to help them."

"Considering there were others who had to help you, I don't think you were in any position to," Haruka said, incredulous. "Makoto, for once, please worry about yourself first. You almost died. I don't know how you got injured, but you had to be carried out of the mine by two of your colleagues."

Makoto's eyebrows were raised in surprise, like he hadn't even noticed he was injured - they sure were generous with the morphine in this hospital. His gaze left Haruka's and wandered over his body, and when he saw the cast around his leg, he gasped again.

"You had a large, gaping wound on your thigh and almost bled out. I think that, while you were running from whatever caused the accident, you tripped and fell onto a sharp rock, or maybe your pickaxe. And you also hit your head on something, because you had a wound there, too. The impact made you lose consciousness. Thank God the others got you out of there in time."

"I can't remember a thing," Makoto said as he examined his cast more closely, an ugly frown distorting his handsome features. "Did the doctors say how long it will take for my leg to heal? Until I'm able to walk again?"

"They… couldn't say," Haruka mumbled, hesitant. "It will be a few months in the very least, but beyond that… they can't guarantee that it'll ever heal completely. I'm sorry, Makoto."

Makoto's hands clenched into fists and he gritted his teeth. Silence reigned as he stared at his lap and processed the information he'd been told. This was a bitter pill to swallow and Haruka's chest stung for him, but he didn't know what else to say; it wasn't like anything he could say would magically heal his wounds or negate the consequences this accident had. All he could do was relay the facts.

"I, um… My mother sent a telegram to your family to tell them about what happened. I'll send them another one later to let them know you're alright," Haruka said and he cringed as soon as the words left his mouth. Makoto was very clearly devastated and he claimed he was alright? He might as well have stabbed him in his other leg.

Unlike what he expected, Makoto didn't flinch at the mention of his family, didn't as much as look up from his white knuckles. Given how dedicated he was to his parents and siblings, Haruka found this strange. He'd thought Makoto would've wanted to see them as soon as he woke up, but what he said didn't even seem to register. He didn't want to press on in fear of sprinkling more salt into his wounds and instead waited for Makoto to say something himself.

Nothing could've prepared Haruka for the conclusion Makoto would reach. "They should've left me there."

"Excuse me?" Haruka said; Makoto spoke so softly he wasn't sure whether he heard that correctly.

"I should've just died in that mine like I was supposed to!"

At Makoto's sudden outburst, Haruka's jaw dropped. His words got through to him slowly, like a loaf of bread in the oven, first rising, then burning. Smoke scratched at his windpipe; a fire was ignited in his ribcage. "How dare you," Haruka spat, nails digging into his palms to stop himself from shaking; the fear that simmered in his stomach transformed into boiling anger. "How _dare_ you sit there and say that to me?"

The bile in Haruka's voice startled Makoto, but his expression didn't waver. "I'm sorry, Haru, but I mean it. What am I going to do now? I can't work like this, not in the mine, and I'm going to have all these medical bills. My family won't get any more money and there's no way my mom can take care of both my dad and I by herself, and the twins are still so young. Even if I try to find another job there won't be anyone willing to hire me, and if I can't work then I'm worthless! I'd rather die than be a burden to my family!"

Makoto squeezed his eyelids shut, but when a droplet inevitably spilled over, he covered his face with his hands.

"Makoto Tachibana, you take that back right this instant. Do you realise how lucky you are that you're still here? How many men died today that would gladly take your place?"

"I know, but I-"

"Do you think your father was right? Is your father a burden to your family? Would it have been better if he died?"

"Wha- of course not!"

"Then stop spewing such nonsense!" Hot tears stung in Haruka's eyes and never before had he felt like slapping and hugging someone simultaneously. "Do you have _any_ idea how scared I was? How I felt when I thought I lost you?"

"Haru."

His tone was remorseful. Surprised, even. What had Haruka said that could've possibly been a surprise to him?

This side was one Haruka wanted to keep locked away deep within himself, not to be shown to anyone and certainly not to Makoto. It couldn't emerge again, not now, but the seams were torn and crumbs oozed through the holes. His molars sank into his inner cheeks at a last attempt to withhold the tears, the confessions, the vulnerability, but it was in vain. "When I saw you being carried out of the mine, I thought… I thought you were-"

The lock burst open and everything was blasted out. Not a coherent word left Haruka's lips as he crumpled on Makoto's bed, burying his head in his arms as uncontrollable sobs shook him to his core.

"Haru, Haruka," Makoto said and put a tentative hand on his shoulder. Haruka didn't shy away from his touch, so he grabbed his elbow and pulled him towards himself, wrapping his arms around him. "I'm so sorry, Haru."

Haruka melted in his warmth, hid his face in his neck as Makoto's hand rhythmically stroked his back. This was not how Haruka imagined the first time Makoto embraced him would be. But, with the events that went down today, he was grateful the opportunity didn't pass them by.

Maybe, from now on, he could make an effort to express how he felt, to leave nothing unsaid. What these hours of doubt had ingrained in him was that he didn't want to live a life filled with regrets. What-ifs would surely continue to haunt him; all he could do to combat their destructiveness was to not stash away his feelings and desires and hopes and dreams, but to be true. Not only to himself, but to the world around him.

A gentle hand carded through his ink-black locks, the other kept caressing. His stuttering breathing slowly regulated and his supply of tears ran dry. But Haruka didn't want to leave this cocoon, not yet. It was soothing and secure, a shelter from reality, a sincere sanctuary. Makoto proved over and over why Haruka needed him, why he wanted to stay by his side more than anything. How could he ever say he should've died?

Like his mind had been read, Makoto ruptured the silence. "I'm really sorry, Haru. About everything," he said, voice thick with suppressed emotion. "I didn't mean to hurt you, I'd never want to put you through something like this, but it's just… Even if it's only for a couple of months, my house isn't accessible for a wheelchair and I won't be able to take care of myself, but I can't go back home either. My mom is already under so much pressure taking care of my dad and the twins, I can't add more to her workload. And financially, I think my insurance can keep us covered for a few weeks, but after that… I don't know what I should do from here on out."

"We'll figure it out together." Haruka raised his head off Makoto's chest and adjusted himself to sit beside him on the bed. "For now, you can stay with us. I'll take care of you."

To Haruka, it seemed like the most obvious solution, yet Makoto gawked at him like he had suggested he move into the lake and let the ducks and fish nurse him back to health. "Are you sure?"

"Of course," Haruka said, "There's a storage room downstairs that we barely use. I'll clear it out and make a bedroom for you. If you don't mind sleeping next to the kitchen, that is. If you need anything, all you have to do is yell."

"I don't mind, on the contrary, but are you really sure it's okay?" he asked, twiddling his thumbs, "Please don't feel obligated to help me. I don't want to be a burden."

Haruka sighed. "If our roles were reversed, would you not take care of me? Would you think I was a burden?"

"What? Of course not. I would do anything for you, anything you need."

Warmth blossomed in Haruka's cheeks. Makoto said it so casually, like it was the easiest thing in the world, while Haruka had to fight to get the words past his lips. "Then there's your answer."

"Are you sure your parents will feel the same way, though? I don't want to impose on them."

"You don't have to worry about that, I'll handle things with them. My mom adores you so I'm sure she'll be fine with it, and you're at our house more often than my dad anyway so he has no right to complain."

For the first time in what felt like years, Makoto chuckled. Sweet and melodic, a sound Haruka had feared he wouldn't be able to hear again. It calmed him even more, like the quietness of the lake and the hold of the water.

"Thank you, Haru. I have no choice but to accept your offer," he said and though it visibly pained him, a twinkle of gratitude shimmered in his pupils, "Still, it doesn't feel right to take advantage of your kindness without doing something in return. I don't have the money, but if there's anything I can do to repay you, please let me know."

That was it. Makoto was a genius. "You can help out at the café."

"Oh definitely, I will. There's not much I can do right now and I'm not a good cook, but I can still wash dishes," Makoto said, but Haruka shook his head.

"You're going to be our new waiter."

"What, a waiter?" Makoto asked with a frown.

"You're kind and patient, so you'll be great with customers. We just have to put the tables a bit further apart so you can pass through easily in a wheelchair, and if we build a removable tray over your lap, you'll be able to serve the plates and drinks without any problems." Everything was coming together. Why hadn't he thought of this sooner, before this accident had to occur? "We'll have to adjust the height of part of the counter so you can handle transactions, but that shouldn't be an issue."

"I mean, I'll be glad to help out in any way I can, but isn't waiting your mom's job? Won't she mind?"

Haruka shrugged. "We've been getting more and more customers lately and if you're there to help out, I can stay in the kitchen. Besides, my mom's been saying that I should be prepared to take over the café someday, because she would like to go with my dad more often on his business trips. This will work for everyone."

"If that's the case, then it's fine. I'll be Café Nanase's new waiter."

"It's an upgrade from repairman," Haruka joked, "This job does not only come with food but also with housing, care and a paycheck. We'll set up a contract once we're home and-"

"Wait, a paycheck?"

"Yes? I won't expect you to work for free. Whatever the mine paid you, we'll pay."

"But I won't be working for free. I'll work in exchange for housing and care. That's the only way I can repay you."

"But you'll still be repaying us," Haruka argued, "We needed an extra waiter anyway. For you, this job simply comes with a lot of benefits."

"Haru, I can't accept-"

"Why is this so difficult?" Haruka interrupted his oncoming protests. He understood Makoto didn't like accepting charity, but they were best friends. They said they'd do anything for each other, and Haruka meant it. "You need housing, care, and a job. We have an unused room and need a waiter. This is the solution to all of your problems, and it also helps us out. Isn't this the perfect arrangement?"

Makoto dropped his head. "Why are you doing this, Haru? Why are you going to such lengths for me?"

"Don't you get it? Because I love you."

The words that had been budding and budding on his tongue over the past couple of months leapt off, irrepressible. It wasn't until Makoto's mouth fell open and his eyeballs looked like they were about to pop out that Haruka even realised what he had said. But he wasn't going to take it back, because he meant this, too. With all his heart.

"Haru," Makoto mumbled, dumbfounded, and then he smiled. The same breathtaking smile he bid him when they first met and like that morning, Haruka was flooded with serenity. Although this time, he didn't introduce himself but said, "I love you too."

When he heard about the news around noon, Haruka thought the light had been sucked out of his life, an eternal solar eclipse, and he would never feel joy again. But now, seated on the edge of a hospital bed next to a gravely injured guy who he loved so incredibly much, Haruka was bathed in sunshine and felt more happiness than he had in his nineteen years combined.

Naturally, more naturally than cooking or drawing or swimming, their bodies found each other in another embrace. Heart pounding, goosebumps erupting, butterflies fluttering; this was how he'd always envisioned it to be. His arms encircled his neck, hands sweaty and shaking again, but now, it was with anticipation. His gaze was glued to Makoto's precious eyes and their corners crinkled, then they fell shut. There was nothing left to do but follow his example.

Makoto let out a shuddering breath and it played against Haruka's skin, teasing, coaxing. Their noses bumped as Haruka swiftly closed the distance between them, overtaken by desperation. Like this moment would vanish if he didn't seize it, like Makoto would turn to dust and be swept away by the wind, like all of this had been a dream and he would wake up back on the battlefield of Iwatobi if he didn't kiss Makoto now.

He cupped Makoto's face in his palms, chest aching as he guided his mouth towards Makoto's. Synchronously, Makoto placed one hand over his, lacing their fingers together while his other hand rested on his back. Calmness and contentment washed over him as their lips met, soft and tender.

Their first kiss was something Haruka had fantasised about countless nights as he lied in bed, and this was not quite how he had pictured it. They weren't at the lake, fresh out of the water, laughing and carefree. They weren't in the kitchen, washing and drying plates respectively, until their fingers grazed and set their pores ablaze. And they weren't on the back porch after a late dinner either, watching how the pink sky morphed to blue and the stars appeared, scooting closer and closer until their shoulders bumped. This scenario hadn't been a part of any of his daydreams, yet it was so much better than any his brain could've conjured up.

Makoto's lips were dry and a bit cracked, but felt so nice, so affectionate against his. His palms were rough and calloused but enveloped him with such warmth and security. His touch was loving and trustworthy, like everything would be alright as long as he was here. There were many uncertainties in the world, but there was one thing Haruka knew for sure: he would never grow tired of this feeling.

When they parted, Haruka leaned his forehead against Makoto's and kept his eyes shut, wanting to stretch out this moment for as long as it could last.

"What did I do to get so lucky?" Makoto murmured, so quietly Haruka almost didn't hear it, "What did I do to deserve this? To deserve you?"

His tone wasn't tinged with insecurity, instead brimmed with adoration. A tiny smile curled Haruka's lips. "Isn't that obvious? Have you ever met yourself?"

Makoto giggled. "Thank you, Haru. I wouldn't know what to do without you."

"Me neither," Haruka said, and he wasn't eager to find out. So he was going to do everything within his might to prevent something like this from happening again, so they wouldn't be left behind. For his entire life, Makoto had been taking care of and protecting his family and now, it was Haruka's turn to look out for him.

They shared another kiss, a brief one, and giddiness bubbled up in Haruka's stomach. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced before; they shared so many firsts already, he could barely wait to discover even more wonderful things together with him.

"Still, I am very grateful to you," Makoto said, tucking a strand of hair behind Haruka's ear. "Isn't there anything I can do for you in return?"

Haruka shifted to rest his head on Makoto's shoulder, lying on his side on the edge of the bed and Makoto immediately wrapped his arm around him. "Just stay here, stay safe, and don't go anywhere I can't follow."

"You know I can't promise that, Haru."

It was an unreasonable request, Haruka was well aware. Life was sailing on a rocky river, unpredictable, never sure if the end was within reach or if the boat would capsize before then. No one knew what would happen, but the knowledge that Makoto wouldn't enter another mine again was a huge relief. His new workplace was a thousand times safer, as long as he didn't attempt to juggle knives. That was something he could certainly avoid.

"What I can promise," Makoto continued, his knuckles wandering back and forth over his upper arm, "is that I'll stay by your side for as long as I'm able to, as long as you'll have me. Because I really do love you, Haru."

"I love you too," Haruka said, averting his eyes as another blush lit up his ears. Makoto pressed a kiss to his hair and he could almost feel the smile in it. "But if you insist you want to do something else in return, you're always welcome to help out with the dishes."

"Gladly," Makoto said with a cheeky grin, and then he stole another kiss from Haruka's lips.

This ordeal would surely leave a scar on Haruka's heart. One that, like Makoto's leg, might never heal completely. But if Makoto was with him, then Haruka felt confident enough to confront and conquer his fears.

Somewhere in the distant future, they might be partners for life and co-owners of Café Nanase. But for now, they were Haruka Nanase and Makoto Tachibana, a cook and a former-miner-turned-waiter who loved each other wholeheartedly. That was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this story! :)
> 
> For more MakoHaru content between fic posts and chapter updates, you can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/DatHeetJoella) and [Tumblr](https://datheetjoella.tumblr.com/) @DatHeetJoella. You can also send me a message on [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/DatHeetJoella) if you'd like.
> 
> Thanks again for reading and I wish you a lovely day!


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